


Sharply

by rex_sun



Series: Rex/Fido HnG Deathmatch Entries [3]
Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mischief, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-23
Updated: 2012-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-16 20:56:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rex_sun/pseuds/rex_sun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shindo and his sharp angles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Phnx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phnx/gifts), [Lanerose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lanerose/gifts).



> Written under the pseudonym “Fido” for the Deathmatch hosted on hikarunogo@dreamwidth. Theme for Round 4 was “sour”.

Hikaru's mom wants him to be nice and share with the girl. The girl is a new thing in Hikaru's world; she might have come into existence just the other day as far as he is concerned. She isn't really an entity to him, just an anomaly, but Hikaru's mom bends down and taps his hand. "Go on," she says.

Hikaru reluctantly thrusts his fist of candy forward. The girl, who he will later come to know to be called Akari, takes a handful of sweet chocolate. She smiles, but not at Hikaru, and shoves the pieces into her mouth.

"Say thank you, Akari," the other adult says.

"Thank you," Akari tells the ground shyly.

Hikaru swears revenge in his tiny four-and-a-half year old heart.

("Oh, please. You are so melodramatic.")

***

Akari of course becomes a semi-permanent fixture in Hikaru's life. Eventually he forgets the time before he knew her, and if asked, he would say, "I've known her all my life." (If you could get him to say anything about it at all, that is.) Point being that he never has the presence of mind to doubt her existence. She is just Akari, like his mom and the sun and concrete and clothes. He shrugs her on like a jacket on the morning walk to school, and he shucks her off like shoes when he goes home.

All good things to her, he will think in the future when he is an adult and not quite as inconsiderate. He will wish her all the best and admit like a secret to his friend that he used to be such a brat. ("Trust me, I know.")

But until then:

"Can I have some?" Akari sometimes asks him, holding out her hand already because she, too, does not yet question or glorify Hikaru's presence. Hikaru unthinkingly drops half a handful of chocolates into her hand.

"Can I have some more?" Akari asks again.

"Get your own!" Hikaru says eventually. Akari pushes at him lightly and they bicker and Hikaru hands her more sweets. That's how it's done.

But of course-- ("Of course, you couldn't leave it alone.") --Hikaru was born to shake things up. So one day Akari holds out her hands expectantly, not looking up from the little notebook in which she is doodling anime characters from her favorite shows. Hikaru drops a candy into her hand, and she automatically pops it into her mouth.

Then Akari drops her pencil-- ("Oh my god, I can't believe you." -- "Shut up!" ) --and the notebook slides out of her lap. She clasps a hand to her puckering mouth, but she can't hide the watering of her eyes.

"Hikaru, how could you!"

Hikaru points and laughs.

"What is that?" Akari demands, swiping for the bag. Hikaru doesn't let her near it. "Tell me! What just happened?"

She never figured it out, Hikaru laments later on in life. Sort of telling, that.

===

"Not that it was difficult--"

"Obviously. The trick of a nine year old."

"It's kind of sad, but I guess it didn't bother her enough to figure it out."

"It's more sad to me that you kept on with the same trick you invented when you were nine."

"Hey!"

===

When Hikaru is twelve, he can't help but notice that Mitani is fond of sweets. Tsutsui perches on the science table to watch their game from above. Mitani still beats him soundly most of the time-- that's why he's going to be their first.

Being friends with Mitani is sort of strange. Mitani doesn't have many friends his own age. Hikaru doesn't have many friends his own age that can beat him. (In elementary school, Hikaru could beat all his friends at dodgeball [provided there were no ghosts to distract him with airplanes].) But Mitani is not Tsutsui, who is older, and he is not Akari, who is bad at go, or any of his other classmates that he can beat at the arcade or in sports. Mitani really is just better than Hikaru, but he doesn't rub it in all that much, so that's kind of cool.

Mitani is kind of cool.

Hikaru likes to ruffle feathers.

Mitani likes sweets. He always asks for one of Akari's cookies or for a piece of a chocolate bar. Sometimes when they hang out on weekends, rare as that is, Mitani will smell like warm morning donuts or he will ask to stop by a convenient store.

"You've got to brush your teeth a lot," Hikaru remarks thoughtlessly. It kind of irks Mitani, and that makes Hikaru grin.

It's just so easy to take advantage on one lazy evening when the club as a whole walks away from school. Hikaru draws the bag from his pocket and eats his share, then holds it out to Mitani with a small offering shake. Mitani smiles just a bit and reaches in.

Akari looks back, breaking conversation with Kumiko. She stares at them for a second, expression puzzled, before she gasps out, "Oh no! Mitani-kun, don't eat that!"

But Mitani's cat-slant eyes widen and his eyebrows raise just a second too late. Suddenly he is squeezing them shut and jerking his head and wrinkling his nose. Hikaru bites his lip. It does nothing to stop the choking giggles rising from him.

"What the hell!" Mitani yells. He waggles his tongue and spits the acid-green candy into the dirt. "You bastard, what was that?"

"Hikaru! Not again," Akari admonishes. Tsutsui visibly flounders for something to say in reprimand. He might be trying not to smile, too.

"Oops, was something wrong with that one?" Hikaru asks mock-innocently.

"I'll kill you!"

Mitani leaps forward; Hikaru tries to dodge; Mitani grabs hold of his backpack strap. Hikaru is full-out laughing by now as he and a growling Mitani swirl round and round, wrestling without real malice. Mitani lunges and digs his hand into Hikaru's pockets, looking for anything and finding nothing. Their tussling kicks dirt up onto Kumiko's white socks.

"Guys, come on," Tsutsui says mildly. Definitely smiling.

"You damn--!"

"Ha ha! Your face!"

***

That is how it goes. Mitani is a cool customer-- except when he's not. Hikaru knows how to rile him up; it's kind of his specialty. He sometimes thinks Mitani might be his best friend, but then he does something really irritatingly aloof, like a cat or something, and Hikaru reminds himself that Akari is his best friend.

["What about me?" Sai asked.

"Well, obviously you," Hikaru responded honestly. "But my second-best."]

("What about me?"

"We weren't friends back then, don't pretend.")

So Mitani is his friend even when Mitani is mad at him. Or at least, that's what Hikaru thinks. And as time goes on, it's more like what Hikaru hopes. Eventually, however, after Hikaru joins the insei, he must concede:

He is wrong. This is not something that will blow over. Mitani is not his friend anymore. Mitani will be mad at him forever. ("Oh, I remember him now.")

===

Akira smiles very slowly. It's an uncharacteristic expression that Hikaru doesn't know how to handle. Something is squirming in his stomach. Did he eat something bad? he wonders briefly, turning his eyes away.

"Yeah, so, well." Hikaru finishes his story lamely.

"And you thought this prank would work on me?" Akira asks, tone flat but tinged with a warm affection amusement. (Probably.)

"Uh. Well." Hikaru pops his knuckles nervously and leans against the back of the bench they're sharing. He looks around the park because it is infinitely more neutral than staring at Akira. Akira's lids pucker at the corners as he smiles, but his eyes remain as sharp, bright, and biting as ever.

===

"Touya, here!"

"Here what?" Akira asked without even looking up from the kifu he was studying.

"Want some?" Hikaru shook the bag.

"You know I don't like to eat at lunch."

"I can get you to eat," Hikaru pouted.

"Ugh, fine!"

Akira reached into the candy bag. The candy bag. Popped the chocolate-coated sour hard-candy into his mouth.

Kept on sucking.

"That's a weird candy," Akira said absently. He held out his hand for another. "I like it."

===

"It usually works," Hikaru grumbles sullenly.

"Can you try to act like an eighteen year old?" Akira sighs as is expected.

"Never."

Akira laughs gently and gets up. Hikaru hesitates before following him out of the park. As they walk back to the institute, lunch over, Akira pauses by a vending machine. "Want anything?"

"My favorite--"

"I remember."

Hikaru shoves his hands in his pockets. He feels a little embarrassed. He'd tried the age-old trick, and it hadn't worked. Then Akira had asked if he had more candy today, and Hikaru said no, he didn't usually go through them that quickly. In lieu of candy, Akira had demanded the story. Now Hikaru looks like a dork.

He's kind of happy, though, too. How could he expect anything less from his eternal rival?

"Here." Akira presses the can into Hikaru's side and smiles. Hikaru feels his belly do another flop and smiles back sheepishly. He removes his hands from his pockets to take the drink. Akira keeps looking at him. Obviously he is trying to turn Hikaru's brain into mush.

Akira pops his can. Brings it to puckered lips. Tilts his head back. Hikaru pops his own can without thinking, eyes fixed on the flexing of Akira's pale, strong throat.

Hikaru takes his own large mouthful, just to make himself stop staring.

He feels the heat, first: a heat so intense it screws Hikaru's face. His tongue feels like it's burning. His lips draw in.

"Nngh!"

The can in his hand is lemonade, not soda-- the extra sour kind.

Hikaru looks up at Akira with wide, watery, disbelieving eyes. Akira hides his bubbling laughter behind his hand.

"Oh, perfect," he manages. "So worth it."

Touya Akira always manages to flip Hikaru upside-down.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written under the pseudonym “Fido” for the Deathmatch hosted on hikarunogo@dreamwidth. Theme for Round 5 was “sweet”.

Akira takes his time doing up his coat buttons. He buttons the topmost, then thinks, then undoes it. How cold outside is it, really? He unbuttons another. He glances back. Shindo's friend, Waya, passes him by, not looking at him but with one hand raised in casual farewell. Shindo, smiling, folds his empty bag of candies carefully before slipping it into the trashcan. Left mostly alone now, Akira stops bothering to hide the fact that he's waiting for Shindo.

"Dinner," Shindo says-- says, not asks. Not suggests.

"I'm not hungry," Akira replies primly.

"Yeah, sure," Shindo snorts. He's still chewing on the last piece of chocolate. It's almost indecent, the intense looks he's been giving Akira lately. More intense than is usual, that is, especially without a go board between them.

They leave the lobby of the institute and step into the brisk autumn evening together. Shindo jerks his head one way. Akira follows because he has nothing more pressing that needs doing.

The two of them have warm ramen at a place nearby. Akira struggles to finish his, while Shindo slurps and burps it down. The cook likes him.

"Your turn," Shindo says over a mouthful of noodles.

"To what?"

"Like, at lunch yesterday? I told you a story. Your turn."

Akira tugs at his coat collar; his neck is hot for some reason and he doesn't want Shindo to point it out in public. "I don't have interesting stories," Akira says mildly.

"Bull."

"What would you have me talk about?"

"Your dad?"

"No."

Shindo finishes his bowl off and pushes it away; then in the lulling quiet, he pulls it back, almost without realizing; then again he sets it to the side and wipes his slightly damp fingers on the bottom of his shirt, visible under the open jacket. Shindo says, "Girlfriends?"

Akira can't help but to laugh. Shindo smirks back at him. It feels strange-- this camaraderie. Almost like they are high school chums and not professional go rivals. Or something.

"Maya," Akira says indelicately. The undersides of his face, the back of his jaw, feel even warmer now, and itchy. But he wants Shindo to know. They are-- they're friends. It's very pleasant.

===

Maya, Akira explains, was one year ago when they were seventeen. ("What did she look like?") Brown hair. Big eyes. Nice eyelashes, Akira remembers, surprising himself with how fondly he remembers those cute eyelashes. She smiled with her lips closed, but those big eyes were very bright. She was the daughter of one of the go salon's customers. The adults weren't even trying to play matchmaker, which is probably why Akira ultimately took a more-than-just-polite interest in her.

("How come you never said anything?" Shindo asks. Akira shrugs.) Akira never told anyone about her, not even his parents. It just wasn't a pressing concern. He liked her well enough, but he didn't feel like sharing her, simple as that. His parents didn't tend to question where he'd been, especially not when they were so often absent themselves.

"I think it's kind of romantic," Maya would often say. "This secrecy."

("Satisfied?"

"No! Go on, tell me what she was like.")

Very sweet. Maya minded none of his go player's idiosyncrasies. More than tolerate, she accepted his passions and stopped just short of supporting them even when go inconvenienced her. She was willing to view just about anything in a good light.

There was once, even, when he completely missed a scheduled date-- but when he called her the next day, breathless and nervous, he heard her smile over the phone. "Are you free today?" she asked.

They went to one of the fussy little tea shops she liked. Akira didn't much care for them-- too much pink, too many frills, unnecessary lines. (He prefers the straightforward, squarely intersecting lines of the go board. Far more mystery there than any number of layers in Maya's skirts.) Akira sipped tea and got hit on by the waitress. Maya ate cake and didn't mind.

"Are your parents home?" Maya asked as she licked the crumbs from her lips and smeared a bit of icing just under.

"Yes."

"Mine aren't," she said, twirling a dyed, low-lying pigtail.

So they went to her home.

("Oh, okay, this is where this goes from friends telling stories into real man-talk," Shindo says, grinning and nodding.

"Dangerous territory," Akira returns with an arched brow.)

Her bedroom, Akira recalls, was quite like the tea shop they had just left. Beauty magazines, tomorrow's dress on a mannequin, soft turquoises and dusty pinks. She sat on the edge of her bed confidently and put tiny braids into her hair. She was really quite beautiful, gum chewing aside.

Akira sat next to her. She offered him a piece of strawberry gum. Then she loaded a video on her desktop. ("...and?") And nothing. They watched a drama. Or, Maya watched a drama and Akira discretely looked around her room. He'd never been in a girl's room before. There was a very delicate flower arrangement on the window sill that he told her he liked, just for something to say. ("Nervous?")

"My mom makes it for me," she said, taking her eyes off the drama rather easily.

"My mother does the same," he said stupidly.

"Know what I like?" she asks. "Your hair."

Her pink nails felt good running through his hair. Her eyes were very bright...

===

"Did you say, 'My mom cuts it for me?'"

"Why would I say that?" Akira asks coolly. Shindo stuffs his fist in his mouth.

"Okay, okay," Shindo chuckles. "But, really, just-- nothing?"

Akira raises his eyebrows at Shindo. Shindo makes an expectant sort of nod.

"End of story," Akira sighs. (His ears feel hot. He was enjoying this rare moment of normal teenage interaction until now. Suddenly her eyes fled from his recollection and all he could see in their place was Shindo's own.)

"What? No way! Come on!" Shindo whines. "At least tell me the end."

"When did we get here?" Akira asks suddenly, startled. Somehow he failed to notice them leaving the ramen place and walking all the way to the train station. Now they stand before it dumbly, blocking foot traffic a bit, not yet parted. He looks over at Shindo, blinking owlishly as if that'll refocus his sorely distracted eyes. Shindo looks mildly around him and shrugs.

"I don't have anything to do," Shindo mutters. "Are your parents home?"

"No."

Shindo huffs a not-quite laugh.

In a matter of minutes, they're standing side-by-side on the train, both heading in the same direction. Akira watches the graying twilight from the window and tries not to think too hard about how like and unlike Maya that Shindo sounded on the platform.

"So what happened?" Hikaru asks quietly as they step out into the chilly night on Akira's stop. They walk in step with each other, pace leisurely.

"She liked someone else more," Akira says with a shrug.

Shindo purses his lips-- a strange but temporary reaction. At last he says, "Well, if you missed dates... Where were you when you were supposed to be with her?"

Akira opens his mouth and draws a breath, then stops. Somewhere in the distance a dog howls, and closer by the last of the cicada songs fade out, and in between a steady line of cars roll their wheels smoothly over asphalt.

"I was with you," Akira says gruffly.

Shindo's mouth drops open, just a bit. "Oh."

But he doesn't say sorry, because he's never been a particularly sweet boy.

***

At Akira's home they fall into silence and let the clack of go stones suffice for conversation. The night falls like a silk curtain, separating them from the world. It's very nearly agoraphobic-- it feels too open, like any number of miles separates Akira from the only other human on the planet. He sits in this discomfort and does not have time to ponder over why being alone with Shindo makes him feel just plain alone.

Akira loses, somehow. Perhaps, he considers, his mind has been too scattered. He and Shindo have spent many days now devoting large periods of time to discussing things that are not go. It's distracting.

Shindo doesn't even have the decency to gloat. Instead he does with his go bowl what he did with his ramen bowl earlier. Akira wants to tell him to stop but fears he might snap. Why is he so tense lately?

When they finally give up, it is two in the morning.

"Are you tired?" Akira asks politely.

"You going to bed?"

"No."

"Nah," Shindo says, trying not to smile down at his hands in his lap. He hesitates then says, "Your house smells, uh-- never mind."

"Like flowers?" Akira supplies, thinking of his mother's arrangements. He is also trying not to smile. "Or like wood..."

Shindo shrugs, expression strangely-- oh.

"You don't like it?" Akira jabs.

"Doesn't smell like what I'm used to, that's all."

"Oh? Then what does your house smell like?"

Shindo shrugs. "Kind of harsh, honestly."

Akira catches himself thinking he wants to smell it one day.

Later, they sit side by side with their feet under one blanket and Shindo introduces him to the weird programs that come on the TV this early in the morning. Shindo finds Akira's mom's chocolate after a while. Akira fusses at him but without any sort of real heat.

"You eat too many sweets," Akira murmurs. Shindo grins at him as he pops one in his mouth.

"Don't like them?"

"I'm mildly allergic to them."

"So you can eat some?"

"Mmhmm." Akira feels his eyelids slipping. His brain is buzzing weirdly.

Then suddenly there's a sticky ball of candy forcing entry at Akira's slack lips. He clenches his teeth and falls backward while Shindo cackles from above. "Eat it!" he barks far too loudly, and Akira has to grab with both hands the arm trying to shove chocolate into his face.

"Stop that!" Akira orders. "Immediately!"

"Make me!" Shindo growls.

Akira flops his head, hair flying, as Shindo inches the chocolate ever closer.

"What is wrong with you!"

"Second wind," Shindo says wickedly, devious grin twisting to one side of his mouth.

Akira just can't let Shindo have such an advantageous position-- hovering over Akira like that. So he knocks Shindo's supporting elbow, gladly making the sacrifice that is chocolate smearing over his face so that he more effectively kick Shindo away. He bares his teeth; it feels a lot like a grin. Shindo pounces again.

They don't stop even when flower vases perched on tables wobble precariously. Akira feels faintly ridiculous-- he's never done this before, never had another boy wrestle with him. It feels much too childish for an eighteen year old, but at the same time he is determined to win. He doesn't even really comprehend how this started; maybe Shindo's getting payback for the whole lemonade thing; maybe Shindo really just likes to flip Akira's world over. It's a whole new area that go made him miss, this pounding heart and vicious throttle. Trust Shindo to bring it to him: the right kind of human closeness. In a whirl of broad hands and heavy limbs, that distance that so haunted Akira earlier closes up.

They do stop when Shindo's elbow accidentally plows into Akira's face.

"Shit! You okay?"

The sudden silence and stillness cut through to Akira's muddled brain; he realizes the truth as he looks into Shindo's bright, bright eyes. A three-thirty AM epiphany. He knows he wants to touch Shindo's body again and why. Knows why he didn't care much for saccharine Maya.

Breathing heavily, Akira runs his tongue over his gums and tastes metallic blood, faintly sweet. It's just as much as he needs.

He parts red lips over red teeth, crooks his fingers, and says, "Come."


End file.
